


Shopping

by Cock_Zero



Series: The Mis-Adventures of Frankie and Geraldine [1]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/F, Girl!Frank - Freeform, girl!Gerard, girlverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frankie wears one of her stage shirts to the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shopping

“Frankie, what did I tell you about using Sharpies to write on your shirts?” Gee scolded, waving the t-shirt in front of her girlfriend's face.

Frankie merely glanced up at the article and shrugged. “Well, I don't know, Geraldine, what did you tell me about writing on my _stage shirts_ with Sharpie?” he mocked.

Gee scowled at the attitude. “You know I told you to use washable markers. Sharpie doesn't come off in the washing machine.”

“But washable markers run when I sweat and color my skin,” she argued back. “And it's not like I wear them anywhere but on stage.”

“Still,” Gee snipped, turning on her heel.

“You love me,” Frankie shouted, grinning to herself when Gee grumbled a reply back from the kitchen and the washer lid clanked as it closed. She went back to plucking the strings on her guitar, writing down the notes she was playing.

She had lost track of time, filling up numerous pages with notes and lyrics, when Gee poked her head back into the bedroom. “Hey, Frankie,” she called and Frankie looked up, “can you run to the store? I'm on a deadline and we need soy milk and sugar.”

Frankie nodded with a hum and stood. She groaned softly, rubbing her ass. Placing the guitar on its stand and slipped a pair of shoes on while Gee walked back to the living room. Following her to the living room, Frankie pocketed her wallet and keys. “Soy milk and sugar. Anything else?” she asked.

Gee shook her head, keeping her eyes on the papers laid out on the light box.

With a nod, Frankie left the apartment, taking the elevator to the ground floor. A short bus ride, along with a dozen stares at her freshly shaved mohawk (and probably the not very nice sentence on her shirt), took her to the grocery store. She browsed the aisles, grabbing four cartons of soy milk and a bag of sugar before turning down the bakery aisle. 

There were fresh doughnut on display and she got a box of six, three glazed and three topped with chocolate and sprinkles, before heading to the checkout. Frankie ignored the sneer on the cashier's face when he read the words on her shirt, paid for her items and took the bag with a fake grin, leaving the store.

When she stepped back inside the apartment, Gee was cooking a late lunch, humming and swishing her hips to the music coming out of the computer speakers. She slipped in behind her, setting the bag on the counter, and wrapped her arms around Gee's waist. “'M back,” she purred. “Whatcha makin'?”

“Carbonara,” she replied, stirring the nearly cooked fettuccine. She had the peas and mushrooms pre-cooked and resting in a bowl beside the stove, along with the egg and cheese. “Did you get everything?”

Frankie hummed, stepping back and grabbing the bag. “I got doughnuts, too,” she said, taking the box from the bag. “They were just putting them out when I passed by.”

“Couldn't resist?” Gee smirked, glancing over and seeing Frankie smile as she stored the items in the cabinet. “What's on your shirt?”

“Uh...”

Gee frowned, turning to her, spaghetti fork in hand. “Frankie, did you go out with a stage shirt on?”

“Maybe?” She glanced down to the shirt, tugging on the hem slightly. She heard Gee let out an exasperated sigh and shuffled over to the table, waiting for lunch.

“Which one is it?” Gee asked, draining the pasta and dumping it into a bowl with the rest of the ingredients, mixing everything together.

Frankie bit her lip, pulling the shirt away from her chest. “Um... 'my eyelashes are longer than your dick',” she recited, keeping her eyes downcast. She jumped slightly when Gee snickered.

It shortly turned into a full laugh as she turned, placing the bowl on the table. “That should be a song title,” she grinned.

“I was thinkin' that too.”

“Got a melody I can work with?” she asked, handing Frankie a small bowl and fork. “Might be able to get something written down in a few days.”

Frankie smiled, twirling a hefty amount of pasta from the larger bowl. “I might have something that could work.”


End file.
